


Coping Mechanisms

by Quilljoy



Series: Empty Comforts [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Can be read as Jester/Yasha friendship but i'm like they're LESBIANS, Dealing With Loss, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Minor Beauregard/Jester Lavorre/Yasha, Moving On, POV Jester, Post-Episode 69, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, some fluff I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 15:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilljoy/pseuds/Quilljoy
Summary: “It’s funny, you know?” She told Beau. “For someone so silent, her absence speaks really loud.”After they abandon Yasha, Beauregard and Jester cope with loss in their own way.





	Coping Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there! It's me again, cranking out some fanfiction right before thursday when I had the entire hiatus to do something :D :D This is (supposedly) the first part of a series. I have a widofjord on the works that ought to be published tomorrow… Or, you know, three hours before episode 70 goes live, because I live dangerously or not at all. 
> 
> Warnings: For anyone expecting something squicky, this is not it. Unusual for me. Beauregard is far, far too mature for our own good. I just wanted some good ol' tusk love-like smut, but alas, no lesbian porn in this one, unfortunately.

Watching the Xhorhaus’ treetop peak above Rosohna should’ve brought Jester a sense of relief and yet, as they drew closer to the capital – muddy, tired, weak –, all that brewed in the pit of her stomach was a rising nausea.

“Home, at last,” Beau said, probably because she never had had a home. She balanced her head and hands on top of her staff, taking a moment to rest before marching on. 

They were all soaked to the bone in sweat and grime, and the sole of Jester’s shoe had been peeling off and flapping all the way down from the Barbed Fields, but Beau took the mantle of leadership for herself, and pressed them for speed. Jester kinda liked that, that Beau hadn’t listened to Fjord and Caleb. She didn’t like tiring Yarnball, sure. But Beau had that look about her, more exhausted than the rest of them yet determined, somehow. It was easy to follow her whenever she was like that, so they all did, making their way back without stops, messaging Essek and trusting Caleb to handle matters of the Dynasty. 

It was so, so tiring to think of it. Beau and Caleb and Fjord argued when they thought nobody was listening – and, sometimes, when they didn’t care if someone was listening. All the way down, hushed whispers, Beau’s angry voice and, worst of all, the silence, once they were far enough for the realization to hit them that Yasha wasn’t going to come back. 

(That they might as well lose the favor they had acquired and that they might’ve unleashed something evil in the world, too. For Jester, that came as an afterthought.)

“I don’t like this,” Jester whispered. She hadn’t said much, not since leaving Yasha behind. She wanted her bedroom and her mom and, most of all, she wanted Yasha back, so they could all share a meal and she could forgive her for nearly hacking Fjord in half.

“Me neither,” Beau said, “but it’s a step, the first of many. We’re gonna have to trust Caleb on this one.”

“No, not this.” Jester shook her head. Thirty feet from them, Caleb and Fjord went over a plan Jester didn’t care about, Jannick prowling about beneath his owner. He shifted from one paw to another until Caleb commanded him to dash, following the path not to their house, but to the Bright Queen’s hall. “I trust him.”

Fjord made his way back to them.

“What about, then?”

“It doesn’t feel like we’re back, back. It feels like we left something behind, together with Yasha.” 

“Jester…”

But she didn’t want to talk about it, not when talking made her heart ache. Her legs ached, her belly ached, she didn’t need another sort of pain. Jester nodded to Beau and then at their house, clutching Yarnball between her thighs and prompting him forward before Beau could make a single sound of protest. He ran, and all Jester could think about as he ran was how very tired she was of running.

For a place so enigmatic at first, Rosohna passed in a blur, its houses and unfamiliar darkness more of the same now, the same boredom that their way back presented. She wasn’t from the Empire. She hadn’t grown listening to how dangerous the Dynasty was. This was just a city like any other, with people like any other, struggling like all of them did, and wasn’t it unfair? For them to be so welcomed there, in this place that had both given and stolen Yasha from them. 

Jested pushed Yarnball as fast as he could go, but it didn’t amount to much, in the end. She’d stormed off alone. And alone she was, once they reached the gates to their mansion, which seemed all the more cold than the night on the open fields. The tree branches twisted around the tower, unkempt tufts of grass and moss sprouting from where the stone had broken under the tree’s weight. Jester remembered happy plants. She tought it was stupid, to think that, but she told Deucey and he had understood. Their tree looked gnarly now, its branches shaped like claws, the foliage a sickly green. Something moved, and it took Jester a panicked moment to remember the flickering lights it needed to survive. They now cast shadows in a place that was already dark.

M.T. House, Caleb had said. To honor Molly. But it was truly empty now. 

It didn’t even look like they’d been gone for that long. Hell. They had probably stayed away from it more than they’d lived in there, and it could as well belong to someone else, although the curtained windows betrayed no light coming from the inside, and no sound made its way out, either.

Jester dismounted Yarnball and paused her hand by the door. 

(It was probably all in her mind. She clutched her symbol, all the same, and sought the Traveler’s presence where she could not find her friend’s.)

“She will be back.” 

It wasn’t the Traveler’s voice that eased the tension away from her shoulders. Beau panted behind Jester, breath heavy and forehead slick with perspiration. Clarabelle wasn’t around when Jester sought her, and neither were Caduceus, Nott, nor Fjord. Beauregard wiped away the sweat off of her skin, and pushed the door open. 

“She always walks off.” She sounded nonchalant about it. Beau leant against the door frame on one foot, the other kicking the dirt off of their property. She tried so hard to look cool; Jester couldn’t help but loose the frown a bit. “And she always comes back, remember?”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

“Sometimes, we walk off. She waited for us, Jess, at the ship. She waited for us to come back.”

“Six days. It’s been–” She didn’t want to count. “It’s been well over six days.”

“She can wait more. I promise you. She’s gonna wait, and we will go back for her, alright?”

There was no sense in arguing. Jester wanted to let go. She deflatted a little. Jester didn’t want to worry Beau, who was looking more and more mature by the day, who – unlike her – was growing and changing and leading their little team. Taking responsability for them. Ripping Fjord away from the claws of that laughing _thing_ when she thought Fjord would be gone, just like she’d carried Nott through the fire in what seemed to be ages ago. And what had she been able to accomplish? Jester felt tears prickling her eyes. 

“Gosh.” She chuckled. Her cheeks were hot, and they’d probably be glowing purple, too, and she hoped her eyes weren’t red. Jester rushed in before Beau could take a good look at her face. “I’m such a child!” 

If she pushed her fingers against her cheeks she could force a smile. It wasn’t her place to cry, not when Beau liked Yasha better. They were all having a terrible time there, she thought, as she stomped her way into the house and up the stairs, and hers wasn’t even the worst. Fjord had taken the brunt of Yasha’s rage. Caduceus – who never had left his home before! – was terrified. Just straight out petrified in terror! Caleb had to turn himself into an ugly monkey, and now he was probably going and getting himself arrested, anyway, she hadn’t really listened to what he told them he was gonna do. 

“I know it isn’t so bad,” Jester told Beau when she arrived by their floor. She stifled a sniffle. Her traitorous feet had brought her to Yasha’s bedroom door, and Jester was scared to open it and find all the brightly colored flowers she had painted wilted and grey. “How’s everyone else?”

“Dealing with it.” 

A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. Jester didn’t dare turn back and face Beau, but she didn’t have the courage to open Yasha’s door, either, leaving her trapped between them. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Beau sounded impatient. “Not for now. Hell. The Kryn might show up in five seconds and kill us all, anyway. It is, Jester. It is bad. “ And then, in a lower voice, not quite as annoyed, Jester thought, nowhere quite as impatient as before– “You can cry, you know.”

“I really can’t.”

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone.”

Silence fell around them. 

Jester perked up her ears. She couldn’t hear the door opening to lead their party in. Nott was stealthy, but even Nott couldn’t hide the jingle of her bottle and her buttons when she walked freely and with intent. Caduceus would head straight away to the kitchen. It wasn’t the clanking of pots and pans that would alert them of his presence as much as the smell of food cooking and the heat, crawling out of the oven and settling everywhere else. 

Even if they arrived (when they arrived, Jester corrected herself), she didn’t think it’d be the same again. 

“It’s funny, you know?” She told Beau. “For someone so silent, her absence speaks really loud.”

She missed Yasha. She missed Molly, too. One minute, they were all partying in Hupperdook, and the other... 

The other…

“Aw, come on. Don’t get philosophical on me.”

Jester smiled at that, she did! It was just sad, realizing you could smile and be happy and there would still be sad things to come. You could be the happiest. They would, most likely, get Yasha back, she reasoned. And Molly– Molly was resting, now. And they had met Caduceus, which they wouldn’t, she knew, if Molly hadn’t died, and Caduceus needed them and what would be of him, if they hadn’t come? What would have been of them, if Caduceus hadn’t helped the Nein free them of their shackles? Maybe Molly would be alive, but maybe he’d just have died later. Maybe Beau would also be dead. Maybe Jester would’ve been turned into a slave, and maybe she’d never have seen her mother again.

“Come on.” 

Beau’s hand slid down her arm.

“Let me get you to our room, alright, Jess?”

She nodded and allowed Beau to guide her away from Yasha’s door. It was a funny thing. Beau was tiny, all lean and wiry muscles, but she was cut out for– For power, Jester guessed. Strength, more than all of them. Even more so than Yasha. If Jester wanted, she could tug at Beau’s hand and drag her back into her arms, and it’d be stupidly easy. But it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to, not now, in any case, and so she let herself be led to their room, finding it out exactly as they’d left it, and wondering where Beau found that unshakable will in her (the same will that had faced the strength of an undying monster – and won, as she dragged Fjord along with her). 

“Gosh, Beau. You’re so…”

Great. Amazing. Strong. 

(Pretty, too.)

Her bare feet were filthy; her robes, as torn as her face. Beau’s nose had been broken more than once and her lips were split, and Jester had never seen Beau look so frail and so, so magnificent. Jester used to think her mom was what a queen looked like, and that was before meeting the Kryn’s leader. Now, watching Beau frowning in worry, meeting her blood stained clothes with her gaze, touching her bandaged wrist, now she really knew what a queen was.

“Jess?” 

She tackled Beau by surprise, wrapping her arms around her waist and _squeezing_. 

“Ow-ow-ow-”

That’s right. Her ribs were still healing, and Jester couldn’t bring herself to care enough. She just _wanted_ , so much. Wanted to let Yasha go for now, wanted to be as strong as Beau, wanted to be strong _for_ Beau, too – and for Yasha, and Fjord and everyone else. Most of all for Beau. There was a lot of wanting involving Beau Jester couldn’t wrap her head around. She hugged her and hid her face on the crook of her neck, staying there for what felt like hours, her grip unrelenting and tight, in spite of Beau’s compliance. Heck. She even hugged her back.

“I miss her.” Jester whispered, praying Beau wouldn’t realize tears were staining her shirt.

“I miss her, too. And–”

“And?”

“And I miss Molly. Which is _stupid_ , because he isn’t coming back. Yasha will,” she spoke, and at once Jester knew it was the truth. “Also, he was an asshole.”

A chuckle escaped her lips.

“Yeah, he was. I loved him.”

“I loved him too. And I–” A beat. “I love Yasha. And the group.”

“And I love you, Beau.”

“Love you, Jess.”

And just like that, Jester was less lonely, at least for the evening. At least as Beau clutched her back, her fingers burrowing in her clothes and holding her in place, seeking the support that, for once, Jester could give her.

It was… Nice. Beau didn’t smell good, and Jester was getting snot all over her clothes, and her entire body throbbed in pain and exhaustion. But it was still nice, and Jester could understand why Beau had left them when she had Keg to keep her company, way back, after Lorenzo.

(After Molly.)

“I don’t wanna feel alone, Beau,” she said against her neck. 

“You’re not, Jessie. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Yasha didn’t have the choice. She was lost and scared and she didn’t even have any of them with her. Jester’s messages fell on deaf ears, and was she even listening? She prayed and prayed and used her every spell slot, but Yasha never answered.

“Stay with me?”

“As long as you want.”

“For the night,” she begged. “As you– Like you did with Keg.”

Jester knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she’d said it. Beau stiffened in her arms, her warmth ebbing away in spite of their bodies pressing together. And still Jester couldn’t help herself. “Please? I can help you. Let me help.”

Beau pulled away. Her hands met her shoulders and she pushed, not unkindly, but she pushed, all the same, and Jester was all lonely once again. 

“Beau,” she pleaded. 

“Let’s get you to bed, alright? You gotta be tired.” 

Jester wasn’t met with the severity she expected. Beau looked– She looked weary. Jester thought she was exhausted before, but now she saw the crease on her forehead, the purple bags under her eyes. She smiled at her, but the smile didn’t quite leave her lips. Jester wanted to scream, but she didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

“Let me comfort you. I’m good at that, Beau! The daughter of the very best.”

“I’m… I’m fine. Just need some sleep, that’s all.”

They had done nothing but run and sleep, and Jester was done with it. Neither had made her feel any good about herself. 

“Come on.” Jester wiped away the tear tracks from her face. _Dummy._ Of course Beau wouldn’t want her, not when she was a mess. She put a smile on her face, the best she could muster. “You’re gonna regret it if you miss the opportunity. The daughter of the Ruby of the Sea.” 

“Did you steal Nott’s flask again?” The joke fell flat on their ears, and Beau winced, she literally winced as Jester caught her hand between hers and if she wasn’t trying so hard, Jester would’ve probably broken down on the spot. “Jester…”

“Comfort _me_.”

Oh. 

(That was it, wasn’t it? The thing she had been wanting. Beau looked nearly as surprised as herself.)

Jester placed Beau’s hand over her chest, but Beau yanked it back. 

“Why?” Jester demanded. “ _Why_?”

“Jester, it has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me. Why her? Why Keg, and not me?” She could barely make sense, she knew, but her heart was hammering and Jester had never felt so much and so little at the same time. She wished they’d never followed Oban. She wished Yasha was there, and Molly wasn’t dead, and, selfishly, she wished that they’d never gone over to Xhorhas, too, and she’d never learnt Nott would leave them when she was Veth again. 

(She wished Caleb would dance again. She wished Fjord had never slept with that stupid Avantika. She wished Beau would want her.)

“Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

“Of course I think you’re– You’re more than pretty. This isn’t about how beautiful you are, Jester.”

Jester fought to get rid of her dress. The leather straps clung to her form, ill fitting and tight, meaning to protect and not to be taken off easily, sensually. She shredded what she could get her nails into before Beau clung to her, hugging her– to stop her or to pacify her or both, Jester wouldn’t know. She hated her stupid vest so much. 

“I hate this place.” Her voice got caught in her throat. “I hate it. I hate that you’re all gonna leave someday. I hate that–” She couldn’t think anymore. She was angry and sad and upset, and Beau was there, taking it all in, soaking in it, when Jester had been so stupid and so childish. 

And she didn’t care. She was still there.

“I hate that I’m so fucking stupid. I couldn’t save her. I just– I want everyone to be happy, but we can’t stop thinking about it, and I can’t stop…”

“I can help you, alright? But not like that. Jester, I… I do a lot of stupid shit, okay, and you don’t need to,” she looked for the word, “copy me, when I’m at my worst. Shit. Shit. This isn’t a good, uh. Coping mechanism. Shit, I’m a fucking idiot, alright, and life isn’t like the books either. You don’t get drunk and fall into bed with someone to deal with loss. You’re too smart for that.”

“You are not an idiot. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known. And super hot.”

“Alright.” Beau rubbed her arms, attempting to get some warm into them. “Alright. Let’s agree to that, then. I’m not stupid, as long as you’re not stupid. Alright? Come on, lift up your arms.” 

Jester did as she was told. Beau peeled off her leather vest, after unbuckling all the straps, and there was nothing sexy about it and it was exciting all the same. She unwrapped her sleeves. Soon enough, she had managed unlacing all of Jester’s elaborate, ruined gown, and Jester was left, naked and shivering, but warmer than she’d felt in days.

“Do you want me to run a bath for you?”

Jester shook her head. Beau found a clean handkerchief somewhere inside her bag and, coupled with her canteen and some leftover water, she wiped the worst of the grime away from her body. She cleaned her arms, first, then her neck and breasts, kneeling down and making a good job of rubbing the mud away from her knees. Jester nearly cried. She’d been so _mean_ to Beau, humiliating her in front of the Kryn. Just because she wanted to see her squirm. Just because she thought it was funny. And Beau was so good to her. She didn’t mind ruining their entire floor. She didn’t mind getting on her knees, and cleaning her, and taking her to bed once she was done, tucking her beneath her covers before even starting to think of herself. 

Beauregard, the woman who’d faced the Crawling King’s chosen and basically told him to go fuck himself. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” She asked, nice and cozy and into her bed. Beau sat beside her, and ran her fingers over her hair.

It was growing longer, now. 

She’d have to ask Yasha to cut it, when she came back.

“I’m proud of you, Jester. I told you before, right? It’s alright to be angry.”

“I’m angry. And I’m sad,” she realized. 

“Own up to it, then. Shape it into something you can use. When we meet the Laughing Hand again, you can wield it, Jester, and then, he’s gonna be sorry he’s on our opposing side.”

“Oh. That’s what you do? When you punch people?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I do when I punch people.”

“I’m just gonna leave that to you, then.” She closed her eyes. Beau’s fingers against her scalp felt good. Wasn’t quite like anything else she had in mind. Jester wanted them to dig lower, but this was good, too. “I’m going to… I’m gonna reach Yasha. Somehow, I’m going to reach her, you’ll see. The sadness and the anger, but the happiness too. The flowers Nott gave her, and the flowers I gave her, the ones I painted in her room. I’m going there. I’m going to– I’ll message her again. I’ll reach her. You’ll see.”

“That’s alright. But first, you’re going to rest, alright?”

“First, I’m going to rest.”

And with Beau lulling her to sleep, she did.

  
  
  
  



End file.
